


On Vilka

by TanukiKyle



Series: Girl Genius OC Collection [1]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Other, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:24:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanukiKyle/pseuds/TanukiKyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles, shorts and other things that tell Vilka's story. <br/>(Vilka is an OC Jäger!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Age 4

You’re lucky, in a way. Okay no, rephrase, ‘cause you’re lucky in lots of ways, but specifically in this instance, you’re lucky because Mechanicsburg isn’t as fussed about gender as other places. So when you insisted that growing up you weren’t a girl and you weren’t a boy well, people listened. Sure some people were weird about it, but in general people just shrugged their shoulders and got on with things. There were more important things to worry about then one kid deciding they didn’t identify with the binary of gender.

Of course, you did have to sit through some tests at the hospital for SCIENCE, but any kid who was a little bit weird went through that, and being a Mechanicsburg citizen you’re safe from the really invasive tests like needles in the brain. Well, okay not totally safe, but none of the Sparks at the moment are interested in gender variance.

(You are lucky here, again.)


	2. Age 6

You’re not a Spark – or at least, you’re not displaying any traits that potential Sparks do yet. This is a little bit of a disappointment to your Mother, who is a Spark under the Heterodynes, and frankly a relief to your Father, who is your Mother’s Chief Minion. (It’s a little bit of a taboo romance, but they were dating before she broke through, and he’s the only one that can bring her down out of a fugue.)

But you’re not….well, you’re not as minion-y as some of your classmates, either. When a Spark asks you to do something, you don’t immediately fold like Lucelle, and you definitely don’t spend your time buttering up to them, like Henry. 

Maybe it’s because your Mother’s a Spark.

Maybe it’s just you.

You don’t have to be a Spark to be smart, though, and whilst for a few years you contently and consistently sit just behind the head of the class in most subjects, eventually it happens. You start to get taught Science.

And for you, it’s like a world opens up beneath you. You think, distantly as you read with a small nightlight under the covers, straining your eyes, that this must be what your Mother feels, what Sparks feel. An all-encompassing need to know, to understand, to find out everything.  
For about a month, you do nothing but study texts. About how things work from machines to people. At first your Mother is excited, she thinks you might be a spark after all, that this is going to be your grand breakthrough and so young, too! But by week three, when it’s apparent that you are just absorbed, she puts her foot down. Your schoolwork is suffering (except where you’re so far ahead of the class it’s not) and she restricts you (like you’re small again) to reading time.  
Except now you’re older, and wiser, and can sneak around. Sure you get bags under your eyes, but this stuff is just so fascinating!

You’re lucky, in that before you make a dumb mistake in class from lack in sleep (and here in Mechanicsburg that can prove deadly), you get called before the Head of Year.  
She takes one look at your skinny self, your bulging bookbag and the bags under your eyes so dark they’re almost black and frowns.

What follows is quite possibly the scariest conversation of your as-yet short life. In the end, you’re moved to a specialist class track for the Sciences, but you have to promise to eat and sleep better. The Heterodynes after all, she reminds you, require their scientists to be top-notch, which includes taking care of themselves.

You never realised quite how scary your Head of Year was.

(you’re inspired by it instead of fearful, and this is probably one of the first signs.)


	3. Age 7

Now that all your subjects pertain to your interests, you shoot ahead in school. In fact, ignoring the Sparks and proto-Sparks, you have some of the best grades in well, a long time.

Of course, you’re still behind the Sparks, but not by much. And well, they’re interesting! Far more interesting than some of your previous classmates. And for them, it’s a novelty too – you might be in some of the same classes, but you have to work thrice as hard for it. Some of the Sparks try to mentor you, swiftly discovering that doing something and explaining something (especially to a non-Spark) is very different, especially when that non-Spark has no intention of becoming a Minion.

(You feel like you're waiting, almost, when you don't feel the call to obey. Like there's something out there for you that's bigger, that's greater.)


	4. Age 8

You knew, absently that their was a young heterodyne heir. You even knew absently that they came to school. You didn't expect coming into class one day and swinging into your usual seat with economy new to spare, for the heterodyne heir to walk right in and sit next to you with three Jagers lurking at the door. 

It changes your life.


	5. Age 9

You wouldn't call you and Bill friends exactly. You can't follow all the spark work he studies, but you can debate on your specialisation of choice - medicine. It's not particularly that you're interested in helping other people it's just...bodies are so fascinating to take apart and by proxy to put back together. This bleeds a little into clanks, and a lot into constructs. Either way, you and Bill are not friends - maybe acquaintances. But….

But he's your Heterodyne. You’ve always been loyal to the Heterodynes, you’re a Mechanicsburg citizen, after all but.

It’s never been quite so personal before.


	6. Age 10

You're lucky, because when the window explodes inwards one day in class you're sat next to Bill who sits furthest away from the window next to the door. It saves you from the spray of glass shards which mauls the students closest. 

Everyone flocks to Bill as what are obviously unfriendly constructs swarm in. You're all ready to protect your Heterodyne. 

One of the constructs leers at you and starts to say something condescending. Suddenly you are angry. But it is not childish rage at a toy misplaced. This is deeper somehow, clearer. Stronger. How dare they. How dare they! 

You grab a scalpel and you stride forward as the construct laughs. You look at him assessingly and suddenly it's like he opens up before you. You lunge and his laughing cuts off into a gurgle as you stab his femoral artery via his thigh. (You'd had gone for the neck first but you're still small.)

The next one steps through and it's like dancing. You tune out the sounds of whatever the Sparks are doing. You tune out the sounds of Bills jägers taking down the main flood of constructs. Everything narrows to the vital points you can almost see, to the movements he seems almost to be telegraphing. 

You kill him too. But the next construct forgoes all subtlety and just grabs for you and despite your fire you're still young still small still not fast enough ought to dodge and you close your eyes and think that at least set Bill will be safe. It comforts you. It will comfort your parents. 

It takes you a few seconds to realise that whilst you've been grabbed nothing is happening. 

You open your eyes to Bill holding some kind of Ray gun. The guy holding you is asleep so you pry yourself free. If your heterodyne wanted him dead he'd be dead so as much as you itch to stab him with your bloodied scalpel you resist.

The jägers have finished the rest off. Two of them converge on Bill but the other wanders over to you.

“Ho that vas sum goot moves dere kid.”

You don't respond.

“Kid?”

“That was the best thing I've ever…”

You're not sure how you're ending that sentence. Done? Felt? Before you can decide, the jäger grins at you and ruffles your hair.

“Hyu did goot.”

For some reason this means more to you than other praise. You suspect it's because they're Bills jägers charged with protecting him.

The rest of the day is rather boring after that.


	7. Age 10 (2)

You start working out. You're never going to be big, never a strongman. But you can be fast. You can be dexterous. You can be accurate and deadly.

It worries your parents a little. You know that spark or not they hoped you'd continue along your current path and become a doctor. It's a very safe job in mechanicsburg both in terms of job security and physical safety.

You kinda thought that would be your thing too but...looks like its not. Oh you still love science and medicine don't get you wrong, but well. You discover you love the fight more, the burn of using your muscles, the ache the day after. Even the sharp pain when you hit a target too hard and break a knuckle doesn't put you off. 

This again is probably another sign.


	8. Age 14

You apply to join the army. You have to go to the hospital and tell them you've decided on male, get your documents changed from ‘X’ to ‘M’, but that’s simple enough. The doctor who does it gives you an indulgent smile and drops hints that he knows why.

Of course when you get to the recruitment office on recruitment day, they don’t even look, and you discover that for all your worrying, nobody actually cares - there’s several…..’disguises’ that are incredibly poor, and they’re still let in.

It reassures you, drops you out of the tight, tense stance you've been in so far.

This is a mistake.

It makes you look small, weak. (You are small, tiny even, but weak is not on the table.) 

They start asking questions about what you’re good at, in the tone that suggest you aren't good at anything. It gets your hackles up before you realise they’re goading you. After that, things go a bit better. A bit. They try and talk you into a medic track, but you refuse. You want to fight, you explain. You don’t mind doing field medic duties, or patching other soldiers up if there’s no doctor available, but you want to fight. The fervor in your voice is perhaps another sign, and one of the recruiters leans back, eyes you speculatively. 

They look at you, small and slight still and doubt.

They set you a few practice matches you and you wipe the floor with every single one, even though it’s more difficult to fight without killing. 

They don’t doubt so much, after that.


	9. Age 14 (2)

It does not take you long to become fascinated with the jagers. Oh sure, they’re a medical marvel, but you find yourself caring far less about that then you do about..well, everything else.

They’re strong, they’re fast, they’re better - even the humans that ride with them are the cream of the crop. 

You want that.

(You also, you privately admit to yourself, want the camaraderie they all share. You’ve had to be careful with yourself in the barracks. Your sharp tongue and sharper blades have made you more enemies than friends, even if your success rate on missions has gained you attention from the higher-ups. But the jagers...they punch and hit each other, they scream they fight they bite and the next day they’re friends again. You wish the other recruits were like that.)

(You think you scare them, the others.)

 

(This again, is a sign.)


	10. Age 15

You are not the youngest to ever ride with the jagers, but you’re pretty damn close.

It’s a trial run, your officer says.   
They’re madmen, he’ll never hack it, whisper the other recruits.

In the end, they are both wrong.


	11. Age 16

You take the troth long before the brau. The troth is like breathing, like eating, like coming home. You’ve lived these principles long before you were tied into the pack by blood and word. But now you can feel it, you can /feel/ the bond and it’s.

It’s all the words and wordless all at once.   
It’s brothers and sisters  
It’s loyalty  
It’s   
and  
it’s

(you manage not to pass out at the sudden influx of sensation, and one of the generals gives you a grin. Vaguely you recognise this grin to the twin of your own.)


	12. Age 18

You take the brau when you are nineteen. You still haven’t grown much. You’re short and slight and you have an unnerving talent to just slip out of people’s notice when you try, even with your ginger hair and a grin that matches the other jagers in creep, if not in points of teeth.

The culmination of events that lead up to this decision is this:

Bill and his younger brother, Barry, have started being allowed out the city on raids. They take jaegers with them, of course, and on one trip you go. You don’t know whether it’s luck deciding she’s had enough of you but.

The clank fails.

You’re left in a hostile city with two Heterodyne heirs, facing down lava cannons and  
and

and

Sparks have the madness place.

 

Jaegers have…..something similair. You’ve never reached it before. Never needed to. And it’s harder, for those who haven’t taken the brau. The troth can only go so far. But for you, it is enough and you move. You are still not a strongman, you are still not tall and broad and wide. You have no fangs or claws or teeth or spines. But you are fast, and you are schneaky and you are accurate to the point where some of the older jaegers have actually asked you for tuition.

You go for the Spark, aware that if you take him down the minions will scatter or just focus on you. Either is better. You don’t care. If you die now it will be in defense of your Heterodynes. You just have to drag the fight out long enough so the other jaegers can get them away. 

You sprint and you dodge and duck and weave and all the time you’re throwing knives at the weak points of the machines but even with your now-enhanced speed the Spark was a way away and has turned the lava cannon to face the heterodynes and everything is out of time so you thrust your sword into the cannon with all your force whilst knowing this will kill you.

..

 

The Spark stares at you in shock, blood bubbling from their lips.

You stare back.

The cannon is cleaved in two, but not by you. The edges are far too clean.

Instead your sword is lodged in the Spark.

For a moment, everything pauses, and you turn.  
There stands Bill, Ray Gun in hand. 

(You are lucky, again.)

(Next time, you vow to yourself, you won’t rely on it. You’ll be better, faster, stronger.)

(You apply to take the brau as soon as you return to Mechanicsburg. )


	13. Age 19

You doubt Bill remembers you, but apparently his father knows who you are. Saturn looks at you as you step forward to make your case, and his lip quirks up. 

“Ah, Vilhelm - Lestil and Alcie’s child, isn’t it?”

You thrill a little, that the Heterodyne knows who you are. That your mother is still doing a good enough job he knows who she is. Your father of course, is a package deal. Evidently your poker face is not good enough, as his lip quirks up a little more.

“The generals have already approved your application, and you’ve taken the troth for some years, I understand.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply.

“Of course, the brau only has a ten percent chance of succeeding.”

You know this, and you have even prepared a response. Before you can though, he keeps talking.

“But looking at your records, I doubt you care - you’ve taken numerous dangerous missions with less chance of success. I approve your application.”

He stamps something on the paper and you are ushered out, still a little dazed but burning with determination all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interesting side-note that won't come up in Vilka's POV because they never find out. Saturn actually approves Vilka's application because they want to get rid of this fanatically-loyal-to-Bill proto!jager because they are about to decide to assassinate their sons. Even if they do survive (and that's unlikely, look at them) they'll be out of commission for ages.
> 
> (It somewhat backfires.)


	14. Age 19 (2)

You thought you knew pain.

It turns out you were wrong.


	15. Age 19 (3)

When you awake, your first sensation is glee, a vicious, wild glee. Because you did it! You’re alive! You made it! 

You crack open your eyes, which are gummed shut. When you wipe them, you can see orange against your skin. Or at least, you think you can. Everything seems slightly...blurry. Colours and shapes rather than sharp edges. And if that is your skin, it’s definitely a different colour. And also you may have just cut yourself with those claws that are now the ends of your fingers.

You think if that glee wasn’t so prevalent, you might be panicking, but all you can feel is triumph and fire.

You sit up - or rather, you try to. You come rather short as you discover you’re tied down.

After that everything goes even blurrier for a while, until eventually you calm down enough to realise someone’s talking to you.

“Vell, dat's a goot sign, even if Hy em pretty sure hyu chust broke zum bones.”

You flex your limbs - which as well as feeling broken feel….weird. Longer. OH MAN DID YOU GET TALLER - you lose yourself again, coming back to sharp snaps of pain as someone above you resets your bones. It hurts, but after the brau nothing really registers the same. 

“Go back to schleep keed. Hyu're not even fineeshed yet.”

“Vait-”

You manage to get out, despite your tongue and teeth being a rather different shape than you remember them. Also when your tongue flicks you get….scents? No not quite, but not tastes either. It’s weird.

“Ho, hyu are avake after hall. Hy vasn't sure if dat vas chust instinct.”

You’re still not sure who’s talking to you. Your eyesight hasn’t settled itself yet. You cling onto that yet, because if it never settles you’re going to freak. How are you supposed to be accurate if you can’t /see/ how can you fight if you can’t tell foe from friend oh gott -   
“Keed. KEED.”

Someone slaps you and abruptly panic turns to rage. But the straps holding you down are built for jagers, and you are still not a strongman. You thrash yourself out, discovering in the process that there’s something weird about your spine. You rather suspect a budding tail, but eventually you manage to get out your first worry.

“....Hy kant see right.”

Fingers with the claws delicately held back peel your eyelids more open. You thrum with the urge to FIGHT but at the same time you’re finally managing to read the input of your new senses (whilst your sight is not great, you are practically bombarded by the others.) and this is definitely another jager. If you were thinking better you’d be able to pinpoint other things and recognise them as Mamma Gkika, but you’re not.

“Hmm. Vun sec, keed.”

The lights go out, and suddenly you can see fine. In fact, BETTER than fine. You flush (you can’t see but it’s a fetching shade of orange, now) as you realise you tried to attack Mamma Gkika. She strides back over to you, and you are suddenly entranced by the play of light across her uniform, the tiny details of the braid you can see. It’s like…..it’s like looking through a magnifying glass but sharper, better.

“Vell?”

“Keed?”

You’re suddenly really, really tired, and even caught up in watching the play of colours in her gold braid, you notice her indulgent smile. You just about manage to grin back before the darkness takes you.


	16. Age 19 (4)

You wake up a few more times whilst you’re still growing. It is indeed a tail - a long, serpentine one in a fetching shade of mottled orange. Mamma tells you when she examines you that the visible scales follow your spine and reach out across your shoulderblades and upper arms. (She doesn’t tell you they look like wings - that you find out for yourself later.) She tells you it looks like you now have retractable, venomous fangs. (She warns you to be careful wiv de keesing, yes? and you turn orange again.) Much to your disappointment, you haven’t grown much - your limbs have elongated yes, but your torso hasn’t grown at all. So standing up you’re taller than before, but sat down you’re diminutive as always.

Over the next few wakings, you discover more and more interesting things about your new body.  
Your hands and feet are bigger now, and clawed to boot. Your jaw and mouth can open far wider than any human, and you do indeed have retractable, venomous fangs. (thankfully for you when you end up biting yourself, it seems you’re immune.)

The scales are far, far harder than most metals, and your tail is as dextrous as your hands. (which admittedly at the moment is not very, but you can practice.)

(You get the feeling you’re in for a LOT of practice. Even just doing the basics is difficult, let alone handling anything else.)

But eventually, General Gkika declares you done growing, and you light up. Literally as well as metaphorically - all your mucous membranes glow now, along with what used to be your freckles, for some reason. Slated against what is now inhumanly pale skin, it stands out. You haven’t figured out how to control it yet, but the glow definitely reacts to emotions.

You scramble out of bed, finally, desperately, joyously free, and make for the door as fast as you can because right now you’re pretty convinced you can do anything.

She grabs your tail before you even get halfway, chuckling.

“Keed, hyu hefn' even met you mentor yet, hyu kan' chust go chargink out dere.”

You whine and it is disgustingly childish, past you would be disgusted. Present you is just chomping at the bit to be let FREE OF THIS HELLISH BOREDOM TRAP they dare to call THE INFIRMARY.

It’s only then you notice the (oddly small but still taller than you goddamnit) Jager who’s leaning against the wall, and (in your mind more importantly) bedecked in ranged weaponry. (thankfully it’s still dark in here, so you can still see the detail in each weapon.)

“Ho gott dose are sum nice veapons.”

You lunge before you even realise you’re thinking about it. Unfortunately for you, you have a lot more limb than you remember and end up tangled in a pile at (your mentor?) their feet. You curse a little, because your mouth (and body) seem to have lost all filters. 

"...Yah, dese iz MINE veapons." says the gray-skinned dude with cool ears. (Not as cool as yours but you suppose that would be difficult because you’re extra awesome right now!!!) (In a corner of your mind that is NOT on a high, you’re very embarrassed.)

“Hy vasn’t gonna schteal ‘em!” You are very offended, can he see your offended face? Actually, you surmise as your brow puzzles, you’re not sure why you lunged. You disentangle your limbs and stand. (You are still about two inches short but you manage to resist a scowl.)  
“Hy em Vilka.” 

“Hy em Mircea.”

Then, after a few seconds of eyeing each other up and down.

“....ken hyu valk at all?”

You puff up offended before you realise you have no idea.

“Hy...have not tried?”

You try. It turns out walking is a lot harder now! You only fall over completely twice though, and eventually you manage to do a circuit of the room without falling on your face. You turn to Mircea and beam.

He looks less than impressed, and you have the sneaking suspicion……

“.....are hyu laffing at me?”

He opens his mouth to deny it you can see it you can see it on - the curtain of rage descends and it’s...it’s not like before. It’s not crystal-clear certainty and purpose it’s just. It’s roaring and the desire to SHOW HIM (but not hurt him too bad, he’s yours now.)

Needless to say, you end up on the floor in short order, slightly dazed, with Mircea leaning over you and grinning.

“So! Mine mentor sez dot de first ting a new hyu haz to learn iz dot Hy ken ponch harder und hyu ken't punch et all. Vhich I ken't normally do vith brudders, zo Hy em goink to haff fon veneffer hyu giff me de chence, yah?"

He was just. Just. So cheerful and matter-of-fact about it and the rage takes you again. Funnily enough he does indeed, hit you again.

"Alzo, hyu haff clawz now. Hyu might vant to qvit stabbink hyu hand vit dem."

You unclench your fists to find you have indeed, been slicing up your hand. This pauses you.

“Hy didn’t effen notice.”

It didn’t even register. You look at your hands, barely recognizable as yours except for the dusting of not-freckles on them.

You go straight from rage to panic so fast it’s almost (but not quite) funny. How are you going to be useful like this? How? How? You need to...You need to learn. You need to get better.

“Hit me again but slower.”

Maybe if you watch how he moves you can start to learn. 

"Hy ken do dot, bot eet vill not help hyu ven hyu ken't valk yet." 

You scowl, and Mircea’s ears twitch.

"Alzo mebbe not in de infirmary."

oh. OH. You flush and your own ears twitch and you turn to General Gkika. (You even manage not to fall over or hit things with your tail!)

To your relief, she is merely chuckling. 

“Go, de both of hyu.”

You go, and mercifully when you fall over again on the way out, Mircea says nothing. (He does however, watch to make sure you get up again.)

(You’ll get up as many times as it takes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mircea is the wonderful creation of Para. Vilka just likes to bug him a lot! He is their mentor, after all.


End file.
